Evolve
by Fogs of Gray
Summary: Macon considered himself more 'evolved' than others of his nature. Leah, his sister, has to agree.


An original character! *gasp* I was surprised, too. I'm pretty sure Leah would have had a mate at some time, most likely before the books, so I played with that. This is just them meeting, and Macon being a good big brother. Because I love that.

DISCLAIMER: Not mine.

SPOILERS: Beautiful Creatures...Darkness(maybe?)

* * *

He ran to rid himself of the energy plaguing him. His tennis shoes pounded softly against the cooler concrete. He focused on the the beach he was headed to. The small alcove was just ahead of him, hidden from public. He usually holed himself there after a short run.

It was beautiful tonight. He couldn't wait to bury his toes in the warm sand and forget everything. He allowed his hand to brush past the rock. He was close. He could almost see the water. With a small hurdle, he was in the cove. A pep found its way in his stride. He found himself whistling lowly, slowly stripping his shirt from his body. He stopped about mid-shoulder when he caught a flash of white in the dark waves. A flash illuminated solely by moonlight. When his eyes adjusted he noticed that it was a stranger. Not one of the strung out junkies with far too thin bodies and sickly pale skin. He pulled his shirt down and continued walking toward them. He didn't mind them, whoever they were, in fact it was nice to have company, but the water was dangerously murky in areas. He didn't want his companion to fall.

He stopped when his toes were enveloped in the lulling waves. "Miss?" Her shoulders were slumped resignedly. Water lapped at her knees. Her face was tilted to the sky, her eyes closed. Her hair of an undistinguished color curled at the nape of her neck in a low ponytail. Her fingers pinched the bottom of her dress, her knuckles brushing the still ocean. From what he could see, she was beautiful. "Miss?" He could hear his accent coming out. He made a few more steps toward her, until his shins were thoroughly engulfed as hers were. He leaned forward, to whisper in her ear. "Miss, this isn't safe." Her lips twitched into a smile. She opened her eyes.

"Leah." His brow furrowed. "My name's Leah." He nodded slightly.

"Right. Leah, we need to-" Suddenly her lips were against his. Everything in him revolted against this. He didn't know her. She could be anyone. He broke the kiss. "M."

For a moment, something akin to hurt flashed in her dark eyes. *God, they can't be natural.* "Martin. My name's Martin."

"Martin." Her voice was practically a purr. He swallowed. He could smell the ocean on her.

A brief grin illuminated her. "We should get out of the water?" She didn't respond for a moment. She let him lead her out of the ocean, onto the beach, before pulling away.

"Leah?"

"I'll catch up soon, Martin."

"Where-" She didn't respond again, instead disappearing into the night. The tear lingered in his ears. She was gone.

* * *

They met again over the years. She would appear in his bedroom and be gone again before dawn. She came out about what she was, and they struggled before coming to a conclusion. They had to break it off or she would bite him. Unlike her brother, Leah wasn't opposed to the idea. In the end, neither was Martin.

* * *

They knew it would happen. Macon had told her many times. She didn't expect it so soon. She had buried her face in Macon's shoulder, unshed tears causing sobs to shake her. That was hours ago, when Macon's own sadness had claimed him, shivers and catching breaths personifying him. Now, both were quiet. They held each other tightly until they knew they could stand by themselves. She disengaged first. Instinctively, her hands rushed to rid her face of tears that weren't there.

"Martin-"

"Jane-"

Their voices merged before silence fell. She chuckled although there was hardly anything to laugh at. Both their voices trembled.

"Who?" She kept her tone distant, as if discussing an inconvenient storm. They both knew who had commanded the killers, but not the assassins themselves.

"Sarafine." She nodded once.

"Hunting and his pack." She took a practiced breath. "How?"

"Car accident."

"Ambush."

She shook her head. "Why? They weren't threats. Martin was one of us, Jane could have made one hell of an asset." She closed her eyes, her hands clenching before relaxing. "Why? After all this time?"

He sighed and took her hands in his. "Leah, look at me." She denied the request. He transferred her hands to his left and kissed her forehead. "It was a catalyst meant to throw our alliances to the Dark. He thought they were our only ties to the Light." Another sob started in her throat. "Leah, we'll be okay. He meant to ruin us. We wouldn't want our dear father to be proven right, would we?" She opened her eyes then, filled with the anguish of ages and the desperate madness of a lost mate.

"Not at all, brother mine." A small smile tilted her lips.

* * *

They found each other sometimes, conveniently running into the other in the Tunnels. They would check in. See how they were coping. Drink for a few hours. They would leave and return a few weeks later. They would break apart on rare occasions. One was a day before *that* anniversary. A year had flown by quickly. They held on as they allowed emotions to take over. As he turned to leave, she laughed. "Look at us. We're a mess, Macon. What would mother think?" Something took place in his eyes, an emotion she didn't comprehend at the time.

"I'm sure she'd be proud."

* * *

She remembered when she heard the news. She was still on the low high that it was almost half past midnight and she was alive. Her niece didn't kill them, in the end. She was sure it would have been the end. A pain had brightly started in her chest, tearing into her until she assumed it was the end. She was ecstatic it wasn't physical. Jubilant she was still breathing. She hadn't questioned it until Boo came loping into her room of the Tunnels without Macon. The dog whined and licked her hand. Blood was soaked through his fur.

She stood there now, toes against the grass, her eyes trained on the stone. It was too soon. She knew that. She had known that when the thought passed her mind. Too early. They were the exact thoughts she had allowed herself to think when _he_ died. Two men had died with her in mind. Two men she had loved dearly, in two very different ways. Both had their lives stolen before they had truly _lived_. The similarities were staggering. She inhaled quickly. Macon had left a letter on her desk that night. It described how strong she was, how she was going to _move on_ and live a better life than he had. It told her of how much he loved her as a sibling, and how much he didn't tell her. How Abraham was back, for instance. How Hunting was assigned to kill her, not him. How Macon had known the encounter was imminent and how he willingly took her place.

She exhaled slowly. Abraham may have shaken her foundations. She wasn't as confident as her brother was, now. But she wasn't going to allow him to ruin her life any longer. She was going to find him, and she would make sure he knew she was hunting him. She was sure a fight would ensue. Mask firmly in place, she contemplated who would win.


End file.
